


The Black Tank-Top

by thegreatficmaster



Series: Marvel Collection [3]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Lust, M/M, Reader-Insert, Sweet Tony Stark, Teasing, Tony Stark Is Not Helping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 17:36:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20550065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegreatficmaster/pseuds/thegreatficmaster
Summary: There’s nothing more attractive than Tony in his tank-top.





	The Black Tank-Top

“I’m not gonna be finished for a while. He’s playing with his toys”, you groaned, tracing random patterns in the air. “Oh-and he’s wearing that goddamn black tank-top again”.

“Hope that’s not a personal call”, Tony sang, appearing out of nowhere and walking straight past you, tinkering with the hand armour he had on.

“Nope-no sir”, you assured, mumbling a goodbye, hanging up and sitting upright. “So…anything you need me to do?”, you questioned, actually bored of never having to do any work.

“Not really”, he dismissed, rooting through a box you’d hauled into the house that morning.

“Looking for anything specific?” you asked hopefully, making your way towards him and peering over his shoulder, gulping as his scent hit you, his broad shoulders framed by the straps of the tank-top.

“Y’know what…” Tony started, “why don’t you order some pizza? And fries. We need fries”, he said, not even glancing at you as he fiddled with the screwdriver.

You rolled your eyes, but began dialling the number, when Tony snatched your cell phone.

“Oi!”

“Don’t worry-I’ll get you…a better one”, he commented, as though your phone had insulted him.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, watching him hold his hand up, the light shining as a whirring sounded.

“Just a test”, he shrugged, throwing the phone into the air as a blast hit it, your phone turning into nothing-not a single scrap of plastic, glass, or metal anywhere to be seen.

“TONY! THAT HAD ALL MY SHIT ON IT!”

He fished a new phone out of his pocket, stepping closer and holding it out to you.

Your eyes locked onto his neck, sweat beads rolling down, your tongue darting out and wetting your lips.

“All your stuff’s been backed up”, Tony said, getting your attention.

You had no idea if you were supposed to be grateful for the free upgrade-or pissed that he’d backed your phone up without asking.

“Oh, yea-I’ve blocked your friends number. No more personal calls on the job”.

“Oi-pizza’s here”.

“Bring it down”, he muttered distractedly.

“No-either come upstairs to eat, or starve down here”, you said sternly, glaring at him until he reluctantly complied. “And… would you put something on? Why do you walk around like that?” you grumbled, swallowing at the sight of his arms, a sheen of sweat covering him.

He smirked over his glasses, putting the tools down and stepping towards you.

“What exactly is the problem?” he asked amusedly, crossing his arms, which only made them look bigger and better than before.

“You’re sweaty. You’re stinky. And worst of all-that tank top. You wear it like every day”, you lied, shoving past him and walking to the door, eyeing him one last time, before racing up the stairs, heart pounding in your chest.

There was only so much you could take of Tony in that black tank-top.

“Tony-you’ve got an appearance in like ten minutes. You’re gonna be late if you don’t get moving”, you warned, texting Happy and snatching the blowtorch away from him, holding it away from your face with a grimace as a blast of heat hit you.

You turned back around to come face-to-face with Tony, who was covered in sweat, dirt and soot

“Tony! You haven’t even showered!” you exclaimed in frustration, grabbing his hand and rushing him upstairs and into the bathroom, straight into the shower and turning the water on.

“You have two minutes. Not a second longer”, you warned.

“That’s all I need”, he said, pulling the tank-top off and smirking when you gulped at his perfect, shirtless form.

He threw it at you, your hands flailing to catch the drenched tank-top, reeking of sweat, grease and a scent that was distinctly Tony.

“You can have that, y/n. I know how much you like it”, he winked teasingly, before he unbuckled his belt, dancing out of his pants.

Your eyes widened as you choked on your spit, coughing harshly and leaving the bathroom, heart pounding, gripping the tank-top tightly in your hand.

“Fucking asshole”.

You felt as though you were floating, a familiar scent surrounding you, something strong holding you up.

Stirring, you opened your eyes to find yourself moving through the house, turning your head to see Tony smiling down at you.

“When did you get back?” you asked, realizing you’d fallen asleep waiting up for him.

“Few minutes ago”, he answered. “You gotta stop falling asleep on the couch”, he sighed, smiling when you nuzzled into him.

“Don’t keep me waiting so long next time”, you mumbled back.

Tony let out an amused huff, entering the bedroom and laying you down on the bed, pulling your shoes and socks off, followed by your jeans.

He looked down at you and felt himself twitch in his pants, only now realizing he’d been so distracted with work, he’d barely spent any time with you-including in the bedroom.

“Hey, y/n?”

“What?” you groaned, curling into yourself.

“You gotta look”, Tony sang after a minute.

You grumbled under your breath, glancing over at him, the arc reactor illuminating him enough to reveal Tony in nothing but his black tank-top, his tuxedo thrown aside, cock standing at attention.

Any hint of tiredness was gone in seconds as you threw the covers off yourself, shimmying out of your underpants and spreading your legs, desperate to finally have him inside you-especially with that black tank-top still on him.


End file.
